


Angry Bounty Hunter

by Jestana



Series: SWTOR fics [18]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2018-12-27 17:59:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 8,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12086346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jestana/pseuds/Jestana
Summary: Fyeria has a lot of anger and passion bottled up inside. Bounty hunting helps her express it.





	1. Hutta

**Author's Note:**

> The people who've been following me for awhile will recognize Fyeria from my 'Angry Smuggler' story. Before I got very far on her, I realized that the smuggler storyline just didn't suit her. So I deleted her. I re-rolled her as a smuggler at level 60 when KotFE came out. It still didn't fit, though, I eventually re-rolled her AGAIN as a bounty hunter. That one has stuck. I've had her story written for awhile, but I've been very nervous about posting it. Here it is, though.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mako realizes that she and Fyeria have VERY different ideas about hunting bounties.

Mako did a double-take when she emerged from the 'fresher on the flight to the Imperial Fleet. Fyeria had dressed in a tank top and shorts after her shower. The tank top was almost the same red as her skin. For a moment, Mako thought she'd only put on the black shorts. The other woman didn't even look up from her datapad. "Towel, Mako."

Glancing down, the slicer realized she'd loosened her grip on her towel and quickly adjusted it around herself, wishing not for the first time that she wasn't so skinny. "Thanks."

"Whatever." Fyeria idly rubbed the back of her neck as Mako pulled on a t-shirt and sweatpants. "Feeling better?"

"Mostly." Mako sat cross-legged on her bunk and began combing her hair. Unbidden, her eyes slid to the container that held the remains of the Republic scientist. She'd be the first to admit that she'd romanticized bounty hunters and the Great Hunt. Still, seeing Fyeria shoot the woman in cold blood, simply because someone had set a price on her head, had chilled Mako. Fyeria's face had been blank. No cruelty or malice, just... cold.

Sighing, the hunter set down her datapad. "You're thinking very loudly."

"Sorry, I don't mean to." She ducked her head, sheepish. "I just-- She didn't deserve to die just because there was a price on her head."

"Money's money, Mako," Fyeria told her, shifting to face her. "That's why I'm doing this. If you don't like my choices, you can leave."

Mako shook her head. "No, I started this with you, and I'll finish it."

"Get used to that." The Pureblood gestured vaguely towards the container. "Most hunts, it's easier to kill the target instead of capture."

She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "Not everyone with a price on their head deserves it, though."

"They piss someone off enough to have the price, someone'll take a shot. Might as well be me." Shrugging, Fyeria picked up her datapad.

Deciding it was useless to argue, Mako resumed combing her hair. _Why'd you pick_ her _, Braden? She's not what you said she was._


	2. Dromund Kaas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fyeria manages to confuse Mako.

"Okay, who are you and what have you done with the real Fyeria?" Mako demanded as they left the admiral's office.

A few steps away, Fyeria stopped and turned to look at Mako curiously. "What?"

"I can understand you capturing the Republic noble instead of killing him." The slicer folded her arms across her chest. "The family would pay you more, though I was a _little_ surprised you killed the lady instead of refusing her or taking her up on her offer."

"She gives Imperial nobles a bad name." Fyeria's eyes narrowed, her hands clenching into fists.

Mako raised her eyebrows. "Why does that matter to you?"

Fyeria gestured to the jewelry she was wearing. "This means nothing to you?"

"Should it?" Puzzled, Mako frowned.

"This marks me as a member of a noble Sith Pureblood family," Fyeria told her. "I was born here on Dromund Kaas."

After staring at her for a few moments, Mako asked, "So why are you hunting?"

Fyeria looked away, but not before anger and sadness flashed in her eyes. "Reasons."

"Got it." Mako understood. They hadn't known each other for long, she wasn't going to confide. "What gets me is that you didn't kill the admiral's daughter, despite his instructions."

Growling a little, Fyeria explained, "If he _really_ wants her dead, he should do it himself. Not take the coward's way out and have someone else do it for him."

"Is that what your parents did to you?" Mako asked quietly, realizing this was personal for Fyeria.

The bounty hunter nodded her head once, sharp and short. "Could say that." She touched the back of her neck. "Let's turn this in and get our next target."


	3. Balmorra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mako learns more about Fyeria

"You _seriously_ knew Murghir was the other hunter from the start?" Mako demanded once they'd set course for Nar Shaddaa.

Fyeria nodded, touching the back of her neck. Mako wondered if she even realized she was doing it. "I did. She didn't act like a slave."

"How do you know how slaves act?" Mako lounged in the doorway to Fyeria's quarters as she began shedding her armor. "From being a noble?"

A quick jerky shake of the head answered her. "No, from being a slave myself."

"Wait, like that Republic noble? You were captured and--" Mako trailed off when Fyeria shook her head again.

"Both my parents are Sith, not just Purebloods, but Force sensitive as well." Fyeria growled as she tugged at the zipper on the cortosis weave she wore under her armor. Without a word, she turned her back to Mako. The slicer unjammed the zipper and slid it down. Peeling it off, Fyeria balled it up and threw it in the general direction of her hamper. "For them, having a Force-blind daughter was the ultimate shame. So much so that they sold her into slavery rather than face the reminder of it every day."

Mako stared at her with wide eyes, thinking of the way she kept touching the back of her neck. "Your parents sold you into slavery simply because you couldn't use the Force?"

Fyeria nodded, clenching her hands into fists before reaching up to tug the band out of her hair that kept it up out of her way. "They did. I was a kid, not even ten. After I got free, I looked my family up. They're all alive and well. My sister just finished her trials on Korriban and is apprenticed to Darth Baras. I hate them all."

"If you really did hate them, you wouldn't have looked them up," Mako pointed out gently.

Fyeria growled again and tugged her tank top off, tossing that in the direction of her hamper as well. "I hate my parents, but not Kay. She had nothing to do with my being sold. Probably doesn't even remember me."

"You'd be surprised." Mako tucked her hair behind her ear. "So what about Murghir's behavior was off?"

"Everything." Fyeria stepped out of her shorts and tossed them after her tank top, leaving her only in her bra and panties. Mako could see several old scars scattered across the red skin, souvenirs from Fyeria's time as a slave, most likely. "'Entertainment' slaves like her? They usually _hate_ it and try to draw as little attention to themselves as possible. Being ignored is a relief. Most don't speak if they can get away with it. When they do, they keep their eyes down and don't dare look at anyone. "

Mako considered that, remembering her time on Nar Shaddaa and visiting Hutts. "Yeah, I see your point. She didn't have scars, either."

"That doesn't signify," Fyeria shook her head, pulling clean clothes out of her wardrobe. "If you're bought to 'entertain', your owner will make a point not to spoil your looks. If something _does_ happen, it's healed."

"What about--?" Mako indicated the burn scars that covered the left half of Fyeria's face.

A nasty smile twisted Fyeria's face. "I got these scars while freeing myself."

Wisely, Mako decided not ask any further questions and headed to her own quarters to change and get some rest. She wasn't looking forward to going back to Nar Shaddaa.


	4. Nar Shaddaa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A literal glimpse of Fyeria's past.

" _Move!_ " The command echoed through the spaceport and Mako turned to see who'd yelled it.

A Sith Pureblood woman strode through the spaceport, cradling a Twi'lek against her chest. Mako couldn't be sure, but it looked like said Twi'lek was unconscious. After the pair disappeared onto a lift, Mako turned to remark on the strangeness of the incident to Fyeria. Her partner was glaring at the now-closed lift. Concerned, Mako touched her arm. "Fyeria?"

Shaking herself, Fyeria turned to Mako. "Yeah?"

"Did you recognize her?" Mako asked, remembering that Fyeria had said she had a sister.

Glancing at the lift, Fyeria nodded briefly, and then set off for the taxi droid. "That was my sister. Figures she'd care about her Twi'lek slave. She always was soft."

"There's nothing wrong about caring for people," Mako reminded her, hurrying to catch up with her long-legged strides.

"I actually cared about my parents," Fyeria retorted, her anger evident in her voice. "Look what they did to me."

After they'd climbed into the taxi, Mako persisted, "Still, caring about people can be fulfilling."

"Like mourning for them when someone decides to kill them?" Fyeria asked, arms folded across her chest.

Mako rolled her eyes. "Should've known you'd bring up Jory and Braden. You're winning the Great Hunt for them, don't forget."

"I'm in this so I can get my revenge on Tarro Blood for trying to cheat his way to victory," Fyeria told her firmly. "So, it's for them, in a way, but I barely knew them."

Huffing a frustrated sigh, Mako settled back into her seat. She should have known better than to bring up caring about people. Someone like Fyeria _would_ see it as a weakness. _She told me she looked up her sister, so I bet she cares, just refuses to admit it._


	5. Tatooine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gault joins the crew.

Gault couldn't help staring when Fyeria removed her helmet once they reached Mos Isla. She noticed his stare and glared at him. "Stop gawping or I'll shoot your eyes out for you."

"Right, don't want that." He looked away, following her to the spaceport. "Didn't mean to stare, you know. Not many Sith Purebloods take up bounty hunting."

She shrugged, her durasteel armor rattling with the move. "I have my reasons for hunting."

"Any of them to do with money?" he asked, trying to figure her out.

"That's one of them, yeah." Fyeria nodded, breathing a sigh of relief when they entered the spaceport and out of the direct sunslight. Once they were in the hangar for their ship, Fyeria turned to Gault, her face deadly serious. "Listen, you want to work for me, you follow _my_ rules, got it?"

Gault nodded quickly. He wasn't about to argue with the woman who shot his duplicate full of holes. "Got it. You're the boss."

"First things first: you follow _my_ lead if you're on a hunt with me." She glared at him and it was a little disconcerting to realize that she was the same height as him. "Let _me_ decide how to handle our clients and our targets."

He nodded again. "Like I said, you're the boss."

"Good. Second: no flirting with me." Fyeria made a face. For the first time since he met her, she didn't look like the fearsome bounty hunter who'd chased him into the deep desert, but a normal woman. "I don't care if you flirt with other people, but I'm not interested."

"Is it the horn?" he asked, reaching up to finger the broken one. "Some women like--"

She held up a hand to stop him. "No. It's--" she stopped and shook her head. "Let's just leave it at not interested, all right?"

"Fair enough." Gault followed Fyeria as she turned and headed for the ship he could see parked in the hangar. He'd seen better, but he'd also seen worse. "What about your friend? Think she'd be interested?"

Fyeria shrugged again. "Dunno. Ask her yourself if you want."

"Fine." Something told him the human woman wouldn't be interested, but it couldn't hurt to ask. Unbidden, a familiar face from his past came to mind, but he quickly pushed that thought aside. He'd lost track of Hylo years ago. It was past time to move on.


	6. Alderaan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fyeria usually doesn't like dealing with nobles.

"How many more of these absurd marriage proposals must I endure?" Lady Aitalla wondered as Fyeria returned from kicking out the Thul nobleman.

Folding her arms across her chest, Fyeria replied, "That's something I'm glad I've never had to deal with."

Lady Aitalla eyed her curiously. " _You_ are a noble?"

For an answer, Fyeria removed her helmet. She'd only done so to speak with Baron Girard before. Gault supposed it was just easier to keep the helmet on.

Lady Aitalla studied Fyeria and nodded. "I see. You have my sympathies."

"My sister is the heir to our name now. Let her deal with our parents' efforts to marry her off." Fyeria clipped her helmet to her belt. "For you, though, perhaps they'd go away if you make yourself undesirable to them."

The lady rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "You make a good point, advocate. What did you have in mind?"

Shrugging, Fyeria suggested, "Find a touchy-feely guy with a loud mouth. Problem solved."

"That _is_ an idea." Lady Aitalla looked Fyeria up and down, taking in her tall, muscular figure. "Although, it needn't be a _man_."

Fyeria tilted her head, looking surprised for once. "Well, a fling with a notorious bounty hunter'd send them all running."

"How convenient that I happen to have one at hand, all that's missing is a suitable arena for attracting gossip." Lady Aitalla countered with a smile. "Would you be so kind as to escort me through the gardens, advocate?"

A small smile curved the corners of Fyeria's mouth. "I'd be glad to, my lady."

She offered her arm to Lady Aitalla, who took it. As they walked off, Gault told their retreating backs. "Don't mind me. I'll just loiter around here, maybe look for... souvenirs."

*

"Hmm, looks like someone beat us here," Gault commented as they approached Organa Palace and found dead guards littering the ground.

Fyeria crouched to examine one, helmeted head tilted to one side. "These injuries are from a lightsaber."

"So, a Sith, then?" Gault asked, examining another guard. "This one was killed by blaster fire."

"A Sith and Twi'lek," Fyeria replied.

He frowned and glanced around. "How do you figure that?"

She pointed up ahead and he noticed two women standing together. The taller of the two wore gray leatheris with red trim. She was a Sith Pureblood, her rich red skin the same color as Fyeria's and her dark red hair cut short. The shorter one was a Twi'lek, dressed in gray and black. "They must have business here, too."

"Think we should work with them?" Gault asked, curious.

Fyeria shook her head, stiffening when the Sith turned and looked right at her. After a moment, the Twi'lek glanced at them, and then touched the Sith's arm. Shaking her head, the Sith said something to the Twi'lek and they set off.

Gault looked at Fyeria, noticing that she'd clenched her hands. "Something wrong, Boss?"

"I'm fine," she answered shortly, setting off.

Following a half-step behind, he asked, "What's so special about that Sith?"

Sighing, Fyeria told him, "She's my twin sister. She hasn't seen me since we were six years old."

"Is that good or bad?" Gault asked, watching the two women entered a building, weapons drawn.

"Depends on who you ask." Fyeria drew her blaster pistol. "No more questions. We still have a duke to kill."

Nodding, he pulled his sniper rifle off his back and followed Fyeria through the palace to the coordinates Zacar had given them. _Sith twin sister, former noble lady. Why is she slumming it as a bounty hunter?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, in-game, only male bounty hunters can sleep with Lady Aitalla, but I decided to mess around with that because it's MY STORY, dammit. That and Fyeria told me she wanted to sleep with Lady Aitalla.


	7. Post Great Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fyeria visits Aitalla again.

"I understand congratulations are in order," Aitalla murmured as they lay tangled together in her sumptuous bed.

Fyeria smiled against her black hair. "Yes, thank you."

The Baroness shifted so she could look up at the bounty hunter. "Though, I'm not quite clear on the purpose of the Great Hunt."

"It's an opportunity for Mandalorians and bounty hunters to prove how good they are." Fyeria idly traced patterns on Aitalla's back with her fingertips. "And it weeds out the bad from the good."

"I see." She shivered, propping her chin on her hands. "It also means you can charge more for your services, yes?"

Fyeria smiled, threading her fingers through Aitalla's hair. "Yes, that's one of the perks of winning the Great Hunt. No more small-time bounties for me."

Humming thoughtfully, the Baroness traced the V-shaped ridges along Fyeria's breastbone with a fingertip. "Will you tell me _why_ you're a bounty hunter despite coming from a noble family on Dromund Kaas?"

"It wasn't _my_ choice, if that's what you're asking." Despite her casual words, Fyeria tensed at the question. She didn't like to talk about her past. Mako knew the bare bones and Gault had wisely decided not to ask questions.

"Your parents chose to abandon you?" Aitalla looked surprised and appalled. "Children are valuable, even if they aren't in the direct line of succession."

Fyeria shrugged, looking up at the ceiling, the lazy languor she'd felt completely banished by the topic of conversation. "Some parents value certain traits so much that the lack of said trait in their child is shameful."

After staring at Fyeria for a long moment, Aitalla breathed out a deep sigh. "It's their loss, to have abandoned you as they did. You are a truly extraordinary woman."

"Thanks, Aitalla." She managed a small smile, her tension easing. "You're pretty special yourself."

The Baroness sighed regretfully. "If I didn't have to marry a man eventually, I'd be tempted to ask _you_ to be my consort instead."

"Even if you did, I'd have to decline." Fyeria smiled apologetically. "I like you, but not enough to put up with Alderaanian politics."

Aitalla smiled, her hands wandering further. "I understand and you'll certainly be welcome in my bed any time you visit for the foreseeable future."

"I look forward to it." Smiling fondly, Fyeria tugged her close for a kiss that quickly grew in passion and hunger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When a male BH sleeps with Aitalla, she sends him a letter implying he's welcome to come 'visit' her again. So, this assumes that she sent a similar letter to Fyeria, who took her up on it.


	8. Taris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mako and Torian meet and get to know each other.

"Torian." He looked up from his datapad to see Mako standing in the doorway to the lounge. "Fyeria told me you were injured while helping her track down--"

"The traitor, yes." Torian nodded, setting the datapad aside. "It's not bad."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Did you have someone look at your injuries before you asked to join our crew?"

After a long moment of hesitation, he shook his head. "No."

"Come with me and I'll check it out," Mako beckoned him. "I'm the closest we have to a medic on this crew."

Torian stood up and followed her to the small sickbay. At her gesture, he sat on the bed and removed his shirt so she could tend the burns he'd gotten. Mako's touch was light and deft as she carefully probed each injury with gloved fingers. Then she pulled out her scanner to double-check. "Healed Fyeria?"

Mako glanced at him in surprise. "She didn't say anything about being injured herself. Was she?"

"Traitor took potshots," he told her, flinching as she began to spread kolto on the burns, the gel cold on his skin. "Probably has blaster burns."

"I'll corner her in her quarters later," she assured him, taping bandages over each of his injuries to improve the efficacy of the kolto. "Thanks for letting me know."

"No problem." He nodded briefly, tugging the hem of his shorts up so she could tend to the burn on his left thigh.

Mako gave a soft huff and carefully covered that in kolto as well. "Were you caught in an explosion or something?"

Torian nodded, a little sheepish. "Traitor used my electro-net to blow up his weapons cache. Got both of us."

She nodded back. "There's a reason he managed to avoid being captured until now."

"How long..." He hesitated, not sure how to frame his question.

Mako glanced up from taping a bandage into place. "You want to know how long I've been working with Fyeria?"

Torian nodded again, smiling wryly. "Yes."

"Since she got the sponsorship from Nem'ro on Hutta," Mako told him, gathering up the detritus from tending to his injuries. "Been with her since." Tidying up her kit, she asked, "Why are you here with us?"

He shrugged, pulling his shirt back on, careful not to disturb the bandages. "Want to learn from Fyeria."

Mako folded her arms across her chest, biting her lower lip. "She's ruthless. Not like a typical Mando, you know."

"I've learned from Mandos all my life," he told her, sliding off the bed and squeezing her arm gently. "Time to learn from someone else."

She looked up at him with a smile. "I'm glad you're here."

"Makes two of us."


	9. Quesh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fyeria and Gault take their decon showers.

"You even _think_ about trying to peek, Gault, and I'll break off your other horn and shove it up your--" Fyeria growled at him as they walked to the decon showers.

He held up his hands in self-defense. "Hey, I'm better than that. You have _nothing_ to worry about in that respect."

"Good." She slipped into her cubicle and he heard her start to remove her armor.

Gault followed suit, shivering a little when he stepped into the shower and turned it on. As he began to scrub with the provided soap, Gault called over the sound of the water, "You know, Tyresius made a lot of enemies, but I don't think any of them were a Jedi."

Fyeria gave a soft huff of laughter that he barely heard over the rushing water. "Tyresius wasn't a bounty hunter, either. Should've known killing a Jedi would come back and bite me on the ass."

_It's a very nice ass._ Rather than voice that thought and get his own ass kicked, Gault told her, "From their point of view, it _is_ murder."

"As if they don't do their share of killing." Fyeria's words came out as a growl. "They're just pissed that I managed to off one of their masters without having any Force ability myself."

Finished cleaning, Gault turned off his shower and stepped into the cubicle to dry off. "And destroy a battle cruiser. Pity we couldn't have kept it for ourselves. Would have sold for a nice pile of credits."

"It would have at that." Fyeria sounded thoughtful.

Putting on the tunic and pants waiting for him, Gault exited the cubicle and sat down on the bench. He sat up straighter when a familiar Sith Pureblood woman walked by, this time wearing a purple robe with light gray trim, an Imperial officer by her side. He hid a smile when she paused and looked back at him, startled. The officer said something and touched her arm. She turned to the officer and said something to him that made him blush. Then they ducked into another pair of cubicles just as Fyeria emerged from her cubicle, wearing a tunic and pants and towel-drying her hair, which tumbled around her shoulders now that it was loose from her usual ponytail. Quietly, he told her, "Pretty sure your sister was on Quesh, too."

Fyeria gave him a sharp look, her eyes narrowed. "What makes you think that?"

"She just went by with an Imperial officer," he explained, lacing his hands behind his head. "I think she recognized me from Alderaan."

"Why are you even mentioning it?" Fyeria folded her arms across her chest.

Gault shrugged. "Why not?"

An ensign returned with their gear a few minutes later and they ducked back into their cubicles to dress. When they emerged, the Sith Pureblood and the Imperial officer were sitting outside their cubicles in tunics and pants, talking quietly. Fyeria hesitated, watching them for a long moment before turning and heading to the docking bays. Glancing back over his shoulder as he followed the hunter, Gault noticed the Sith and Imperial watching them. _This is ridiculous._


	10. Hoth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fyeria doesn't mind the cold, but she's glad when she finds her target on Hoth.

While the prisoners they'd freed stumbled towards the exit, Fyeria moved to the side of the cavern. Gault followed her, wondering what she was up to. His eyes widened when she removed her helmet. She rarely did that except on the ship these days. "Is something wrong?"

Tugging off one of her gauntlets, she wiped the back of her hand across her forehead. "The heat brought back some memories I'd just as soon forget."

"That bad?" He wondered, hiding a smile when the Imperial prisoner slowed down as he approached them with his Republic friend over his shoulders. _Wish I had a holocam for the look on his face._

"These scars?" Fyeria tapped the left side of her face. Gault nodded. "Got them in an explosion. I still have nightmares about it."

Watching the last of the prisoners stumble past, he told her, "Doctors can fix pretty much anything, you know."

"I'm well aware of that." Fyeria rolled her eyes. "I didn't have time to see a doctor. I was in the middle of escaping Nar Shaddaa."

He frowned and turned to look at her. "What'd you do that needed an escape off Nar Shaddaa of all places?"

Making a soft noise of frustration, she pushed her ponytail up so he could see the back of her neck. Gault gave a low whistle. Nodding, she let her hair go. "Yeah. I was a slave. I set off an explosion so I could get away and I got caught by the blast."

"That explains some of the rumors I've heard about you," Gault remarked as Fyeria pulled her helmet back on.

He could just picture the curious look on her face. "What rumors?"

"Nothing that you need to worry about," he assured her. "They just enhance your reputation. If they didn't, I'd have told you so you could correct them."

"Should I be worried that you're starting to know me too well?" Fyeria set off for the exit.

"Nah." Gault tromped along behind her. "I _like_ keeping my body in one piece."

"I think _everybody_ does. Myself included."

*

"Looks like you don't have a chance with Mako," Fyeria told Gault when she found him in the galley, snacking on... something.

He looked at her curiously, swallowing his bite. "To be honest, I _never_ had a chance with Mako. Why are you bringing it up now?"

"Just walked in on a conversation between her and Torian." She poked around in the 'fridge for something to eat. "He apparently knows how to cook, at least over a campfire."

Gault shrugged. "No surprise there. From the sound of it, he knows how to rough it."

"Mmm." Fyeria found something that looked edible and put it on a plate before shoving it in the microwave. "Anyway, he offered to make her something as 'proof' that he can cook."

He nodded, leaning back in his chair. "Are you disappointed?"

"Me? Why would I be disappointed?" She leaned against the counter as she waited for her food to heat up. "If they want to try a relationship, they're welcome to it."

"But you-- oh!" Gault's confusion cleared up in a smile. "Gotcha."

Pulling her food out of the microwave once it dinged, Fyeria sat across from him. "Yeah, took you long enough to figure that one out."

"To be fair, you weren't clear about _why_ you didn't want me flirting with you." He pointed his fork at her as she dug into her snack.

Giving him a flat look, she swallowed before reminding him. "The fact that I've slept with Aitalla a few times didn't make it clear?"

"You _could_ have just been picky about who you sleep with." Gault shrugged and got up to rinse his plate and fork. "Not like it matters to me, either way."

Nodding, Fyeria told him, "I don't care what they get up to, just so long as they do their jobs."

"Noted," Torian commented from the doorway, making Gault jump.

Fyeria, on the other hand, simply continued eating. "Seeing as the two of you are here, I don't want to hear anything about either of you pressuring the other into anything."

"I wouldn't--!" "He would never--!"

She held up a hand to stop their protests. "I know it's very far outside the realm of possibility, but I thought I should make it clear." Yellow eyes took in each of her crew members. "I don't want _any_ of you pressuring anyone else into doing something they don't want to do. This isn't just relating to sex, but to _any_ thing at all. Don't do it or you'll find yourself taking a space walk without a suit. Am I clear?"

The other three nodded and Fyeria nodded back. Getting up, she put her dirty dishes in the sink and left the galley.


	11. The Republic's Most Wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fyeria has an errand to run before she meets Darth Tormen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the game, Tormen contacts the Bounty Hunter right away about his job for them. I'm going on the assumption that it takes a bit for him to get things worked out, so it takes a bit for him to contact the bounty hunter.

_"Why Boss bring us here?"_ Blizz wondered aloud as she passed the lounge where he and Gault were hanging out.

She could almost see Gault's shrug when he answered, "Beats me, Blizz. She doesn't tell me everything."

_"You know Boss best!"_ Blizz replied, sounding puzzled.

"But I don't know _everything_." Gault's voice faded as Fyeria exited the penthouse apartment they'd been using as their base.

She noticed Torian and Mako standing at the railing, watching the sunset together. Neither noticed Fyeria, which suited her fine. Putting on a pair of goggles, she used her jetpack to launch herself from the rooftop and flew through the air to the rendezvous coordinates she and her contact had specified. A tall, broad figure clad all in black waited for her. "Is everything arranged?"

"Yes, they're ready to take him in, no questions asked," Fyeria nodded, pushing her goggles up onto the top of her head.

Lord Scourge hesitated to hand over the baby in his arms. "You're sure about this couple?"

"Yes. They took in another baby two years ago," she assured him with a nod. "I've kept an eye on them and they love him to bits. They'll love this one, too."

Sighing, Scourge carefully held the baby out to Fyeria. "His name is Kitteridge. Tell them his parents died."

" _Are_ they dead?" Fyeria asked, carefully cradling the baby against her chest.

He held a diaper bag out to her. "No, but it's safer if he doesn't know."

"Very well." Fyeria took the bag and slung it over her shoulder. She studied him keenly. "Are you all right, Uncle?"

A sardonic smile barely curved the corner of his mouth. "I should be asking _you_ that, since you're at the top of the Republic's Most Wanted list."

She growled softly at that. "I didn't even _do_ half of what they're blaming on me."

"You should have a message soon from Darth Tormen. I strongly advise you to listen to him," Scourge told her, drawing his cloak around himself.

Nodding, Fyeria turned and carried the baby into the building. As she rode the lift down to the appropriate floor, the baby began to fuss. She carefully jostled him, humming a little to calm him down. He settled just as the lift reached her destination and she strode down the corridor to the door she needed. Moments after she rang the bell, an older woman named Edina answered it, "Yes? Oh! You're here."

She stepped back and Fyeria stepped inside. "How's Jaydee?"

"He's a bit of a handful, but we love every moment of it." Edina led her into a living room where another woman, named Prella, waited.

Fyeria sat down on the couch and carefully pushed back the blanket covering the baby's face. "This is Kitteridge. His parents are dead. I hope he and Jaydee get along."

"We'll take good care of him." Prella carefully took Kitteridge from Fyeria. He looked up at her with wide blue eyes.

As she cooed at him, Edina handed Fyeria a credit chit. "Here's your payment. Thank you so very much."

"You're welcome." Tucking the credit chit into her pocket, Fyeria stood up. "I'll be in touch."

"Take care."

With that, she was back out in the corridor. Smiling a little to herself, Fyeria headed to the 'lift. As she rode it to the top of the building, she pulled out her datapad to send a message to Scourge: _Done_. He sent a response back almost instantly: _Good._

*

Fyeria stood as tall as she could when confronted by an Imperial officer and his men upon boarding _The Tyrant_. "My presence was requested."

"I've been ordered to bring you before my lord, Darth Tormen," the lieutenant in charge ordered her, not quite hiding his disgust. "Submit to search and seizure and come quietly."

Fyeria shook her head, clenching her hands into fists. "That's not going to happen."

"You are under jurisdiction of this Imperial vessel, and I will not permit you to remain armed in the presence of a Lord of the Sith. You will comply. Willingly or by force." He drew himself to his full height, not quite matching hers.

Stifling a growl of frustration, Fyeria practically yanked her helmet off, ignoring the gasps of surprise behind her. She rarely removed her helmet outside her ship. "I am a daughter of the Oestan Family of Dromund Kaas. If you know what's good for you, you'll forget about making me and my companions disarm."

Visibly paling, the lieutenant nodded and half-turned. "Stand down, men."

As the soldiers lowered their weapons, Fyeria turned to her crew. "Gault, with me. Torian, Mako, keep the hangar secure."

"Understood. Koy'aci," Torian nodded, accepting Fyeria's helmet when she handed it to him.

"Be careful, Boss," Mako warned.

Together, Fyeria and Gault followed their escort through the ship. She tensed when the Imperial soldiers escorted her and Gault into Darth Tormen's office, recognizing him despite the many years since their last meeting. The Sith showed no sign that he'd recognized _her_ , dismissing the soldiers with a wave of his hand. "I see you refused to disarm."

"As if I could take you out with a measly blaster," Fyeria retorted, folding her arms across her chestplate and, incidentally, keeping her hands far from her blaster.

"Shoot fast enough and you could," Gault suggested with a shrug.

Fyeria shook her head. "Gault, wait outside."

"Fyeria--" he began, only for her to cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"I'll be fine. Wait outside." He stared at her for a few moments before reluctantly nodding and leaving the office.

Once he was gone, Tormen looked at Fyeria curiously. "What do you wish to say that you don't want your associate to hear?"

"Where's our son?" Fyeria demanded, planting her hands on the desk and leaning forward to glare at Tormen. "It's been over ten years. Where is he?"

Tormen gazed back at her impassively for several moments. Finally, he replied, "On Ziost. I'm surprised you care."

"Of course I do." Fyeria straightened up and looked away for a moment, trying to get her emotions under control. Looking back at him, she said, "Whatever it is you want me to do for you, I want something in return."

He folded his arms across his chest, looking irritated. "I chose _you_ as the mother of my child because I wanted an heir, but not a spouse."

"That's not what _I_ want anyway," Fyeria waved away the suggestion. "I just want to see my son."

Tormen actually looked surprised. "You don't want to raise him yourself?"

Fyeria shook her head. "No. I'm not exactly the mothering type. It'll be enough to see that he's alive and healthy."

"Very well. Do everything I require and you will see Shy'ran." Tormen nodded briefly.

Fyeria held up a hand. "In addition to my usual fees."

"Of course, _that_ was not in question." He seemed amused rather than offended.

"Good." Fyeria propped her hands on her hips. "Now, what's the job?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jaydee is Reynarden's son by Jaxo and Kitteridge is Fio and Kira's son. So they're cousins being raised as brothers who don't know they're cousins.


	12. Belsavis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fyeria had a bit of a fight with Skadge when all was said and done.

"Boss!" Mako exclaimed in surprised dismay when Fyeria limped into the Imperial base camp on Belsavis, cradling her left hand against her chest, the left side of her armor looking as if it'd been through an explosion. Her right gauntlet was missing completely, several of the fingers bent at odd angles. "What happened to you?"

"Was it Barrows?" Torian asked, looking just as concerned as he helped Mako support Fyeria.

Fyeria shook her head as Gault joined them. "An angry Houk named Skadge."

"Let me guess: he thought he'd hitch a ride with us to get off this rock?" Gault asked, sounding exasperated as they headed towards the medcenter.

She nodded this time. "Idiot thought he could actually take me in a fight."

"Looks like he came close to it, Hunter," the Imperial medic commented as she scanned Fyeria for injuries. "You'll need to spend time in a kolto tank to heal everything. Even then, I might not be able to save your left hand. What'd you do to it?"

Torian helped Fyeria remove her helmet. She had a smirk on her face. "Shoved a grenade in his fat face and set it off."

"Fyeria!" Mako was exasperated. She knew her friend had a bit of a temper, but that was a bit much, wasn't it?

Gault shook his head as Torian and the medic began removing the rest of Fyeria's armor. "No, Mako, this Houk was a piece of work. He deserved to be here."

"Whether he deserved it or not, was it worth the damage to your hand?" Mako wondered, folding her arms across her chest.

Fyeria gave Mako a flat look, "Yes." She hissed with pain when Torian and the medic tried to remove her left gauntlet. "Kriff."

"Maybe you'll think twice the next time you want to shove a grenade in someone's face," the medic retorted tartly. She shook her head. "It'll have to stay on for now. If the kolto doesn't work, you'll need a prosthetic."

"Understood, doctor." Fyeria nodded. "We'll figure it out once I'm out of the kolto. How long?"

She scanned Fyeria again. "A few hours should be enough. Your armor took the worst of the blast from the grenade besides your hand."

"Right." Fyeria looked at Mako. "Get in touch with Lieutenant Horn, tell him I'll be up in a few. Once I'm out and Doctor--"

"Quinn, Hunter," she replied, busy programming the nearby kolto tank. "Dr. Astha Quinn."

"Thanks." Fyeria nodded briefly. "Once Dr. Quinn has checked me over, we'll be leaving."

By this point, they'd stripped her down to the tank top and shorts she wore under her cortosis weave. Mako nodded. "We have things under control."

Once Fyeria was floating in the kolto, the others drifted off to occupy themselves while they waited. Mako contacted Lieutenant Horn to update him on the situation.

In the end, Fyeria _did_ need a prosthetic hand, but at least she'd survived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fyeria hated Skadge from the start and had no intention of letting him on her ship.
> 
> Also, Astha Quinn is supposed to be Malavai Quinn's sister.


	13. Voss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fyeria and Gault run into someone familiar.

Gault caught a glimpse of purple out of the corner of his eye and turned, pointing his sniper rifle at... the Sith who was Fyeria's sister. He quickly lowered his rifle. "My lord. This is a pleasant surprise." He made a show of bowing to her, not sure if she was anything like Fyeria or not.

She didn't acknowledge him, her gaze fixed on Fyeria, who'd taken her helmet off while she used her datapad to piece together the information they'd scrounged from the Republic soldiers' datapads. Nodding to herself, Fyeria turned to address Gault. "All right, we--" She stopped mid-sentence when she spotted the Sith. Her eyes narrowed and she looked at him. "Gault?"

"I didn't call her over here or anything," he told her, returning his rifle to his back.

A human woman approached, looking from the Sith to Fyeria. She gently prodded the Sith. "Master?"

The Sith shook herself and lightly patted the human's arm. "It's all right, Jaesa." She turned back to Fyeria. "Nya?"

"Nyanara died when your parents sold her into slavery, Kay," Fyeria replied, her voice rough with emotion. "I go by Fyeria now."

Both 'Kay' and 'Jaesa' drew in sharp breaths at the news. Kay moved closer, gripping Fyeria's arms. "Is that what happened to you?"

For answer, Fyeria gently tugged one arm free and reached up to move her ponytail to one side so her sister could see the thick scar on the back of her neck. Jaesa stared at it in horrified fascination. Forcing cheer into his voice, Gault told them, "She freed herself and became a bounty hunter."

"Is that what you were doing when I saw you on Alderaan and Quesh?" Kay asked as Fyeria let her ponytail fall back into place.

"And Nar Shaddaa," Fyeria added, and then scowled fiercely.

Kay frowned, slowly releasing her grip on Fyeria's other arm. "I don't remember seeing you on Nar Shaddaa."

"Not surprised." Fyeria shrugged, making her armor rattle. "You were rather distracted by your Twi'lek slave."

Both Kay and Jaesa glared at Fyeria. "Vette is my _friend_ , Nya-- Fyeria."

"Of course." Fyeria rolled her eyes. "Bet you freed her as soon as you could."

"As a matter of fact, yes." Kay's glare didn't soften. "You, of all people, should understand."

"I am Sith, Kay. I should _never_ have been a slave," Fyeria growled, leaning forward so her face was centimeters from her sister's.

Kay didn't back away. " _No_ one should be a slave, regardless of their species."

"Far be it for me to get between you two," Gault interjected after a few moments. Both women turned their glares on him. "Fyeria, we're in the middle of hunt. The sooner we finish, the sooner we get paid for it."

Fyeria gave a soft huff of laughter, straightening up. "Right, thanks, Gault."

As Fyeria put her helmet back on, Kay studied Gault. "I saw you on Alderaan and Quesh."

He nodded, smirking. "You sure did."

Kay glanced at Fyeria, who'd set off. "Thanks for watching her back."

"If I didn't, I'd be out of a job and I'd miss the nice, juicy paychecks." Gault winked and pulled out his datapad. "Here's her contact info if you want to keep in touch."

Pulling out her own datapad, Kay accepted the information and sent her own. "Here's mine."

Gault nodded and put his datapad away. "Lovely doing business with you, my lord."

With that, he trotted off after Fyeria. They still had a general to catch, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always intended for Kay and Fyeria to actually get back in touch with each other. It was just a matter of WHEN.


	14. Corellia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fyeria finally gets her revenge on Jun Seros.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in uploading this. I got distracted by shinies and some personal issues.

Once they got on the tram for Axial Park, Gault pulled out his datapad to check his mail. Fyeria sat in the aisle seat, arms folded across her chest as she kept watch on their surroundings. Not that much _could_ happen to them here. "About time." He smiled when he finally saw the message he'd just paid to have delivered. _I deserve it._

"What's about time?" Fyeria asked, glancing at him curiously. It was strange to see her without her helmet. She'd left it on the ship for some reason, though the way others' behavior changed when they got a good look at her must have had something to do with it.

Gault flourished the datapad once he'd archived the letter. "Just heard from Hylo. She's willing to take me back, if I'm willing to show that she means more to me than me." He winced when he checked his bank account. "Sent the message certified, credits on delivery. Almost cleaned me out just to have it delivered."

"I hope you get her back," Fyeria told him with a faint smile, sitting back in her seat a little. She so rarely smiled and he'd yet to hear her laugh. "She's my kind of lady."

"One-of-a-kind." Gault assured her, tucking his datapad away as the tram began to slow. "Too bad it took me this long to figure it out." They both got to their feet and made their way to the exit once the tram stopped. "I feel like I'm back in my prime. Not that I'd slipped, I'm just... unburdened." They stepped outside, breathing in the smell of green, growing things. At least it wasn't a swamp. Ensuring that no one else was nearby, he added, "I owe you for that, so I thought I'd say it. Don't go making a big deal out of it."

Fyeria turned to him at the top of the ramp, yellow eyes amused and a small curve to her lips. "I'm glad I could help. Really."

"I've got to hand it to you, chum, you really surprised me." Gault chattered on, grateful that Fyeria _hadn't_ made a big deal out of his declaration. The only person he got mushy for was Hylo. "You're not what I would call a conventional partner in crime, but we're really turning out to make _quite_ the team."

At the bottom of the ramp, Fyeria paused, hands on her hips as she looked around to get her bearings. Just when Gault figured she wasn't going to say anything, she told him, "Letting you live was one of my better decisions."

"I do think it's because we got all that pesky trying-to-kill-each-other out of the way early." Grinning, he watched as she opened her holomap and studied it, presumably trying to figure out how to get to Darth Tormen's new location. "You and me, we're going to carve out a criminal empire, or at least accumulate one heck of a fortune. Your children's children won't know what to do with it." At the sharp look she sent his way, he hastily added, "If you wanted any, that is. I know your preferred bedmates won't make it easy to have children."

Closing the map, Fyeria set off. "No, but medicine can accomplish many things. Besides, Kay will likely have children. They can inherit my money at least."

"That's the spirit." Gault's grin returned full force. "I'm telling you, Wild Space is the limit!"

Fyeria gave a soft huff that might have been a laugh. Gault wasn't sure. "Let's get our revenge on Jun Seros first, and then we'll take it from there."

"You got it, chum."

*

"I won't be the one after all." Jun Seros gasped, gazing up Fyeria as she stood over him, her blaster aimed at him.

"Looks that way." With that, she pulled the trigger and Seros died in a flash of red blaster fire.

Gault shook his head slightly, trying to clear it of the fog that seemed to have filled it. "This is why I prefer targets who can't mess with my head."

Fyeria knelt and rummaged through the pockets of the white robes Seros wore. Eventually, she found a datapad and tucked it away in her utility belt. She also found several credit chits. One of them, she handed to Gault. The others she tucked into her belt as well. Gault tucked the one in his belt. As Fyeria moved to stand up, she kicked Seros's deactivated lightsaber. She stared at it for a moment before stooping to pick it up. She straightened up and clipped it to her belt, on the opposite side from her blaster. "Let's go. We have our revenge, but our contract with Tormen isn't done yet."

"How much you want to bet that that datapad is encrypted?" Gault asked after they'd walked in silence for several minutes.

She made a soft sound in her throat and shook her head. "No bet. Information like what should be on here would _definitely_ be encrypted."

"I've been meaning to ask you: what happened to those other two lightsabers you picked up?" Gault asked, wondering about Fyeria's silence. She wasn't a chatterbox by any means, but it rarely took this much effort to get her to talk. "The ones Jarro and his padawan had?"

Fyeria glanced at him for a moment. "Not telling. They're mine."

"You could sell them for a tidy profit," he suggested, suspecting her answer, but she _had_ surprised him on occasion.

"No!" She spun to face him, glaring fiercely at him. "They're mine and I'm not selling them. Is that understood?"

Gault held up his hands in mock surrender. He had no doubt that she'd have Force-choked him if she'd been Sith. "Absolutely, chum. They're yours. It's up to you what you do with them."

"Don't you forget it."


	15. Post Storyline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tormen fulfills the terms of his deal with Fyeria.

A servant met them when they entered Darth Tormen's compound on Ziost. "My lord, this is an unexpected pleasure."

"All is well?" Tormen asked as they walked into the house.

The servant nodded. "Everything is as it should be."

"Where is my son?" Tormen practically demanded as they stood in a sitting room decorated with understated elegance.

Bowing, the servant told them, "In the training room with his instructor."

"Very well. Tell Cook to have lunch ready to serve in an hour and prepare a room for Fyeria."

Following Tormen's gesture to Fyeria, the servant bowed again. "Yes, my Lord."

As the servant hurried away, Tormen turned to Fyeria. "Come."

She followed him through the house, feeling for a moment that she was back in the family compound on Dromund Kaas. It only lacked the almost-constant rain. Pushing those memories away, Fyeria focused on following Tormen. He stopped at a particular door and pressed his hand to the switchplate next to it.

The door slid open and they entered to see a boy of about ten or eleven facing a young human man, both of them holding vibroswords. Both stopped and sheathed their vibroswords when they saw Tormen, bowing once they did. "My Lord."

"Father." The boy was tall for his age, a protrusion already forming on his chin similar to Tormen's.

"I'd like to speak with my son in private." Tormen barely glanced at the teacher.

"Of course, my Lord." Bowing again, the teacher left.

Alone with their son, Tormen asked, "Your studies are going well?"

"Yes, Father." They boy nodded, glancing briefly at Fyeria.

Catching it, Tormen stepped to one side and gestured her forward. "This is your mother, Fyeria." He looked at her, "Our son, Shy'ran."

"You told me I have no mother." Shy'ran eyed Fyeria with some suspicion.

She glanced up at Tormen with a wry smile, covering up the churning of her stomach. "I'm flattered by how much you valued my contribution."

"There's more than one definition for a mother," Tormen explained, amusement glinting in his eyes for a moment. "A mother can be the woman who raised you or the woman who gave birth to you. In the first case, no, you don't have a mother, Shy'ran. In the second case, you _do_ have a mother: Fyeria."

After a moment of hesitation, Fyeria extended her hand to him. "I'm glad to see you so strong and healthy."

"I'm glad to meet you." Shy'ran shook her hand and dropped it quickly.

Tormen lightly rest his hand on Shy'ran's shoulder. "Well? What did your Force abilities tell you?"

"We are related," Shy'ran answered after staring down at his feet for a long moment.

Fyeria looked away for a moment, trying to keep her unease to herself. Quietly, she asked, "Is there a 'fresher nearby?"

"Yes, there is." Tormen summoned his servant, who showed Fyeria to her rooms.

She shut the door in his face and bolted for the refresher, vomiting up the contents of her stomach. _I didn't expect seeing him to affect me like this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILERS FOR THE END OF THE BOUNTY HUNTER STORY. Before I played through the storyline on Fyeria, my hunters had always killed Tormen. However, Fyeria's deal with Tormen required that he live, so she killed the Supreme Chancellor. The reason she threw up is because seeing Shy'ran brought back a lot memories and emotions that she'd just shoved away and ignored. Now she has to actually _deal_ with them.

**Author's Note:**

> At the moment, I have no plans to add to this. My original plan for Shadow of Revan has been vaporized and I'm still working out the new plan. So this is it for now.


End file.
